One Link in the Cable
by Bryon Nightshade
Summary: Being a Maverick Hunter is depressing work. The hours are long, the job thankless, the mortality rate sickening, and the pay terrible. But there are times when it's not too bad... like when it's time to break in some newbies. Newbies that don't appreciate just who, or what, X and Zero are. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: This story contains characters and situations copyright Capcom, used without permission but not for profit._

* * *

_On the strength of one link in the cable_  
_dependeth the might of the chain_  
_Who knows when thou may'st be tested?_  
_So live that thou bearest the strain!  
_

-Captain Hopwood, RN, "The Laws of the Navy"

* * *

Blue and red robots rested in the small room.

"Rested" in this case is a matter of degree. The blue robot was busy working with a computer, a seemingly-permanent look of concern etching lines on his face. The red robot never relaxed, never fully. But they weren't in combat, and by the standards of Zero and Mega Man X, that constituted resting.

X glanced up from his work. He had to wonder if "act like a badass" was a programmed directive for Zero, or if his counterpart worked at it. Zero was leaning back against the wall. His arms were crossed, his head was down, and his eyes were closed. One leg was idly propped up, a large tread-foot pressed against the wall. It looked like it might have been relaxing, but X knew that was deceptive. Zero's situational awareness was absolute. Anyone who raised a weapon in his direction would find themselves eating a beam saber before they could complete the motion.

X leaned back in his chair and gave his eyes a brief rub. He looked at his friend with a smile. "Bored?" he asked.

Zero's eyes opened, focused with their characteristic sharpness. "A little," Zero said. "There have been Maverick incidents the past few weeks, but nothing the patrols can't handle. Most of the Maverick energy was expended in the Second War."

"And most of the Mavericks," X added. "That's usually been your cue to go out on patrol as often as possible."

"I do," Zero said. "I pull almost twice as many shifts as you do."

"And you're still bored? Hm… is all your squad leader's paperwork is caught up?"

Zero blinked at that.

X felt a fleeting sense of pity for Zero's assistant squad leader. Poor Rekir deserved a better fate than this. "And you do your usual training regimen, I guess?"

"Of course. I clear all five Class-A exercises at least once a week."

"You know," X said, growing interested, "I imagine your scores get better at that each time, as you get used to them, right?"

"Not exactly," Zero said. "There's such a thing as a perfect performance, in theory. But natural variation keeps you from quite getting there. Random stuff—even I don't get perfect shots every time. I get close, though."

"What's the point of doing it, then?" X asked. "You know everything that's going to happen. It's not a challenge anymore."

"Sure it is," Zero said. "Things are challenging in different ways. Even if you know exactly what a foe is going to do, if you make it fast enough and strong enough it's still tough to beat. Knowing what to do is only the beginning—you still have to do it."

"That must be the difference between you and me," X replied. "You've always been able to be technically perfect and just overpower your foes. You want challenges that test your own perfection. I've never been able to count on being stronger than the other guy, so I've had to be able to out-think them. I want challenges that stretch my imagination."

Zero grunted. "I guess that's why I never see you in the simulator. The simulator's good, and it has some variance built-in, but after a few runs you can start to see its patterns."

X's eyes narrowed slightly. A hand went to his face, where a single finger extended up his jawline, tapping gently. A narrow smile was beginning to form on his face.

Zero's face grew concerned. He knew that look. "What are you plotting, X?"

The smile blossomed more fully. "I think," X said, "we've been underselling what the simulator can give us. Sure, the simulator's enemies only do what they're told, what they're programmed to do. But the simulator can also give an environment in which the most creative, dangerous enemies can fight."

Zero's eyes narrowed. "Like who?"

"Us."

Zero frowned. "We already spar from time to time, when you let me convince you. What's the point of moving that into the simulator?"

"This isn't just about us," X said. "We're not the only Hunters that need training."

Zero's expression went blank.

"You have a squad you're responsible for, remember?"

"…oh, right."

"And there are always the rookies," X said. "Especially the purpose-built ones, the ones who need to be shown…" he smiled. "Zero, I know it might not be much of a challenge, but I'd like to borrow you."

Zero blinked.

"It'll keep you from being bored."

"…fine."

* * *

"Is this really happening?"

The words came from a giddy-looking rookie Hunter who was telling anyone who'd listen that his name was Durand. He was mostly humanoid, although he had an unusual ridge down his spine. His words seemed to expand to fill the small chamber the eight Hunters were crowded into. "This is going to be great! We get to prove ourselves to the rest of the Hunters!"

"You really think that's what this is about?" said Altern. He was a smaller, slimmer model than the other more rugged reploids in the room, with dexterous fingers and extra facial articulation. His base design was all but unarmored, so today he was wearing external armor attachments.

Durand noticed. "What would you know?" he shot back. "You're not even a combat reploid."

Altern shifted uncomfortably. "Every reploid's a combat reploid if it decides to fight," he replied. "I think the Maverick Wars have made that clear."

A feraloid with a reptilian aspect and a huge build snorted at that. Gray armor, patterned like scales, rippled as he flexed slightly in the enclosed space. "I think you just proved Durand's point," said Kombat Komodo. "You have something to prove, at least. You're insecure that you weren't built as a Hunter, aren't you?"

Altern pursed his lips. "Maybe a little, fine, but that's not why we were picked for this. There's one thing we have in common despite being in different squads. All eight of us are unblooded. We're as green as it gets."

"I know!" said Durand. "That's why I'm saying that they're giving us a chance to prove ourselves."

Altern frowned. "Have you ever seen X or Zero fight?"

"Nah, I've just seen X talk," Durand said.

"Ditto," Kombat said.

"Then how do you know this is about proving yourself?" Altern said. "How do you know you've even got a chance?"

"What are you talking about? Of course we've got a chance, especially eight-to-one."

Altern's face was reminiscent of a basset hound. "Have you talked to some of the older Hunters? Have you ever heard them talk about him? They call Zero the Red Demon. Stay behind him, they say, and there's no safer place to be. But never be in front of him—either as an enemy, or between him and the enemy, or you're dead."

"Ha-a-a-a!" said another voice. A second feraloid, who boasted curved horns over the top of his head and self-identified as Rocky, was apparently laughing. "They gotcha good, didn't they? It's the usual thing. My squad played their jokes on me, too. My first day, they told me that I had to help them fill out all their aye-dee-ten-tee forms. I must have wandered through Hunter Base for an hour, asking for aye-dee-ten-tee forms, before someone took pity on me."

Durand frowned. "Their…"

Rocky grinned. "Spell it out."

"Aye… dee… oh."

Another Hunter pitched in, "My squad had me looking on the different calendars to find the dates when Mavericks were in-season for hunting."

"My squad started singing," Kombat said. "Some old guitar piece. 'For those about to die, we sa-lute you!' And then they all saluted me, in case I'd missed the point."

"Well, it's not like Hunters have a long life expectancy," Altern said morosely. "Maybe that's the point they're trying to prove here."

"What are you griping about now?" Durand said.

"Half of all Hunters don't survive their first six months," he said.

"Come on, start thinking!" said Kombat. "Those numbers are thrown all out of whack by the fact that the Second War followed within six months of the First. And they count the first Hunters that were underpowered and had no idea what they were doing. We're better than that."

"If that's so," Altern said morbidly, "then why did they have to build you guys?"

"Upgrades!" chipped in Durand. "The next generation! We're better than the old guys who got bumped off. If Zero's the Red Demon, call me The Exorcist!"

"I think he'd like to hear that," said a voice in dry tones. All eight rookies turned their heads.

It was X, sliding through the door. The expression on his eternally-youthful face was somehow both kindly and serious. "Though I'd concentrate on fighting instead of moniker-making, if it were me," he added.

His entrance sent the room into silence. He was used to this. It also sent all eight Hunters into different ways of thinking about him. He was also used to that. He was starting to understand that he had a reputation outside of the Hunters, though he didn't grasp its dimensions. He also knew he had a reputation inside the Hunters, at least amongst those who'd seen him in action.

But reputations are complex things. Wrapped inside the tales of his prowess were acknowledgements of his age, of the amount of damage he routinely sustained in the course of limiting the damage others took, of his penchant for going silent when even the corniest speech would have been triumphant. Then there was the fact that he didn't look particularly legendary or heroic. Even with his helmet on, which it wasn't, he was a little on the short side. His face was, in many ways, generic, to let him blend in. Altogether, the result was a lot of cognitive dissonance.

There was, X admitted, some practical value in Zero's posturing. Maybe he could give X a lesson or two in badass.

"We haven't done anything like this before," X said. "We're curious to see how it turns out. We have some ideas, but this is as much an experiment for us as it is for you."

He could see the rookies becoming uncomfortable. Oops. He shouldn't have led that way. Mentally berating himself, he moved on. "But there's a very good reason for doing this," he continued. "There are some really, really strong Mavericks out there. Strong enough to take on entire squads. We need to teach you how to recognize and fight bad guys that strong. The first step in doing that…" and he actually smiled at this. "…is to prove to you that they exist."

He watched their reactions. Durand, in particular, seemed skeptical; Altern's face drooped until X was afraid it would fall from his skull. No matter. They'd learn.

Zero would see to that.

Fighting off the urge to grin, X said, "As you know, we usually move in groups of four. I encourage you to organize yourselves the same way, but if you choose to do otherwise, well, I can't really stop you. We'll call it part of the experiment. Your target is in there." He gestured to the door opposite the one he'd come through. "He has taken a hostage. Your goal is to defeat him and recover the hostage. The simulated environment is urban—the interior of a building. We'll be sending four of you in, then the next four after a two minute gap."

"Why's that?" asked Kombat. After a short pause, he added, "Sir?"

"When we respond to Maverick incidents, it's rare for multiple squads to get to the scene simultaneously," X replied, "and the situation sometimes develops too quickly to wait for backup."

Kombat nodded, unsatisfied.

"The simulator will handle the effects of your weapons," X went on. "It'll resolve damage to the environment as best as it can. Hits on you—or your target, if you manage that—will resolve like the old paintball guns. You'll feel a shove from the point of impact, and you'll appear to change color where you were hit. A green impact splatter is superficial. Yellow is internal damage. Red is destructive. You take red to a limb, the limb is gone. You take red to the torso or head, you're down for the count. Oh, and don't try to cheat the system and play on after you go red. If you do, your opponent will decide to disable you in more…" X paused, as if waiting for his thesaurus to find the right word. "…_immediate_ ways."

Altern raised a hand. "Yes?" said X, pointing to him.

"You're not going to restrain him, are you?" Altern said. "He's not pulling his punches, is he?"

"Zero's… I mean, your opponent's attacks will be resolved the same as yours," he said. "But if you're asking if your opponent will try for anything less than total victory, the answer's no. He'll try to beat you as quickly and completely as he can."

Altern's shoulders slumped. "I was afraid you'd say that."

The rookie's face made X feel a brief surge of guilt. It wasn't fair, was it? Sending lambs to the slaughter. Sure, it would be funny, but he shouldn't really be enjoying this, not when it might very well ruin their confidence for good.

"Fine, then, Altern," said Durand. "Stay back and let us show you how it's done! This'll be fun!"

X forgave himself.

"Good luck," he said, and exited the room before his smile escaped.

* * *

Zero looked at a camera in the corner of the room. "You said I wouldn't be bored," he said, hoping X was on the other end. No reply came, which was expected in a dreary way.

Combat was fun. Combat made him feel like he was doing what he was supposed to do. Combat against weaklings, though… it was better than no combat, but not much.

"P-p-please don't hurt me!" muttered the hologram in his grip. Zero faced it with a laser-like stare; it quailed before him.

"You're not real," he told it. He looked to the camera again. "We started, right?"

They were out there, he sensed suddenly. They were coming.

Zero's never-dormant combat subroutines roared to the fore of his mind. Before the simulator could make the hostage react, Zero brought his powered-down saber through its false body. Illusory blood gurgled to the hostage's lips. "But… why?" it croaked.

"You'd slow me down," he said briefly. He let it fall; it dissipated into nothingness. He hated being tied down protecting something that didn't deserve him. Now he was free to fight at something approaching full power. Free to fight how he wanted.

He would not be passive in this. With a flurry of blonde hair, he moved.

* * *

The door appeared to be that of a stairwell; to the rookie Hunters' eyes, they were coming out of the stairs into an office building. The hall split off left and right. Ahead of them was a glass-enclosed maze of cloth partitions, extending many meters across to large glass windows. The entrance to the cubicle-space was down the hall to the right. The left hallway had doors to either side before going around a corner out of sight.

The four rookies, weapons at the ready, slow-walked into the hall. Most kept their eyes scanning the cubicle swamp.

"Let's get him!" said Durand.

"And where is he to 'get'?" Altern mumbled. "He could be anywhere. He could be behind one of those doors, he could be somewhere in that open office area, ducking low to stay out of sight…"

"No way," said Rocky. "He ha-a-as a hostage, right? He ha-a-as to be in a place where he can ha-a-ave the hostage too."

"That's seriously annoying," Kombat said to Rocky.

"Tell me about it," Rocky agreed. "If I could turn it off, I would."

"We'll flush him out, then," said Durand, undeterred. "Two of us go in, two of us stay in this hallway to cover. We can see all the way to the end, right? If he stands, we might see him, and if he jumps we definitely do." He grinned. "I'll be bait for this. Kombat, you wanna come with?"

"Sure," rumbled the larger Hunter. The two started walking down the hall to the right, headed for the door.

Nothing inside the office space moved. The only sound was the heavy footfalls of the Hunters as they made their way to the door. Durand pointed his weapon at something he thought—no, a trick of the eyes. Too much tension. Zero wasn't supernatural and his weapons required line of sight, so he needed to see them to target them. If he could see them, they could see him.

"All we need to do is get him to reveal his position," Durand said heavily. "Do that and we'll overpower him."

"That's the idea," Kombat replied.

"Okay. I'll get the door." He glanced back down the hallway at the other members of their foursome. Altern and Rocky were still looking down the barrels of their busters, still alertly scanning the maze for any signs of the enemy. This wasn't going to get better.

Was this nervousness? Had to be. There was nothing for it, he decided, but to plunge forward. He put a hand forward and pushed the door open.

A surge of red out of the corner of his eye. Before he could turn, two shots impacted his chest, pushing him back. He glanced down—red. Grumbling, he sat himself down.

What had just happened? He tried to figure it out as Kombat stormed into the room, roaring at nothing. "Why'd you guys not shoot him?" Kombat hollered.

"Shoot what?" Rocky replied. "We never saw him!"

Durand looked. The shots must have come from… there. Yes, it was a part of the maze that wasn't visible from the hall. It only just had line of sight to the door. Zero hadn't been there when they opened the door, he was sure. How did he know? How had he been able to pop into sight at the exact right time to shoot them? And how had his shots been so perfect with next-to-no targeting data?

Kombat stormed after Zero's last known location. Durand saw what was coming entirely too late. "Kombat, wait!" he said, forgetting the rules for a moment.

It didn't matter; Kombat didn't hear him, not through the glass cutting off the office space. The tall reploid was visible over the edges of any of the cubicles, which helped him see, but it also meant he could be seen more easily.

As Durand watched, Kombat whirled and snapped a shot off. He ran down an alley of cubicles. Only his head was visible from the hallway; Rocky and Altern watched, intently but helplessly.

Then a white hand came from an unexpected angle, grabbed the front of Kombat's face as he tried to move forward, and yanked. The rookie Hunter disappeared from view with a yelp. The last they saw of him were two frantically flailing feet—and then they were gone.

Silence returned.

"Like they were nothing," Rocky murmured. "What are we doing? He's got every advantage in there, doesn't he?"

"We're not following him," Altern said. "We're staying right here until the second team arrives."

"What about the hostage?" said Rocky.

"The bad guy's wandering around in there, you think he's doing it with a hostage in tow?" Altern asked. "He's either stashed the hostage or killed it, and either way there's no rush. We need to hold here until…"

Both of them focused on the new round of weapons fire. As they watched, plasma bolts began impacting against a wall to the left of the cubicle swamp.

"Hey, Rocky," Altern called over the din, "think that fronts onto the hallway?"

"Probably," said Rocky.

Then, in a blur, leading with his saber, Zero erupted from inside the cubicle maze. The wall disappeared before him, and he was out. It happened so fast that, even knowing Zero was going to be there, neither Hunter had time enough to pull a trigger before he vanished.

"Come on!" shouted Rocky. The two Hunters ran down the left part of the hallway in time to see Zero opening a door. For a split second, they ran for him as he stood still, almost long enough for Altern to limber his buster for a shot. Then the red robot was inside and out of sight.

His appearance galvanized the Hunters. They thundered down the hall after him.

"We've got him now!" Rocky shouted. "We just keep him in there—barricade the door—wait for backup—"

The two Hunters were about two-thirds of the way to the door when Altern realized they should have known better.

The source of his realization was Zero blowing through the wall.

They'd seen him do it once before, after all, but there was still no time to react. He appeared between the two Hunters who were still running full-tilt down the hallway. There was no chance for Altern to pull up. Zero grabbed him and redirected his motion. The world spun around, and when it stopped, Altern was skidding down the hall on his back, processing interrupted by the hard blow. Before he could think to aim, before Rocky could collect himself, Zero was standing between them. He dealt them each a stern smack with a low-power beam saber.

"You're dead," he said coolly.

"No kidding," Rocky shot back.

"The dead don't talk," said Zero, eyes narrowing.

Rocky glared, but said nothing.

Zero shook his head. "Honestly, X. What were you thinking?" Replacing his beam saber, he walked away from his kills. He paid them no more mind.

Altern sighed. "I think that was as bad a diss as killing us so easily."

"How did he know where to punch through the wall?" Rocky said.

"Probably guessed our speed before he ducked inside the room," Altern replied. "We were pretty dumb. Hadn't we just decided to wait? But one glimpse of the bad guy and it was all, 'Get him!'"

"We've gotta do better than that," Rocky said. "I want another shot at him."

Zero's head appeared around the corner and gave them a harsh look. They fell silent. He withdrew.

"Scary," whispered Altern.

* * *

Zero decided that had taken entirely too long. Thinking about it, he knew the rest of the rookies had to be on a timer to arrive, as they hadn't come in automatically as replacements. Good. He could prepare more aggressively then.

When the door opened, the four remaining Hunters emerged, leading with their busters, just as the last squad did. They scanned left and right. None scanned behind.

Which was too bad, as Zero was pressed against the wall, behind and above the door, his feet having smashed his own footholds. When he detached, the first Hunter had barely a moment to feel fear before the end. "Help!" he squeaked.

"Nope," said Zero.

The saber flashed.

* * *

Eight disgruntled rookies sat in the debriefing room.

X's appearance gave them the opportunity to start complaining.

"…wasn't fair…"

"…took advantage of the rules…"

"…stupid scenario…"

"…killed the hostage…"

"…cheated…"

X held up a hand. When that didn't work, he held up both and said, "That's enough!"

The whining died down. X waved for the door, and Zero walked in. He settled against the wall next to and behind X.

"Before you say anything about the scenario," X said, "I based it off of an actual Hunt. The only change was using Zero as your enemy."

"He cheated," one of the rookies mumbled.

X's face was cross; Zero looked amused. "What would we be proving if we rigged the scenario?"

"He knew when I came through the door," Durand said. "He shouldn't have been able to see me."

"I couldn't see you," Zero said. "I was watching the door. It's taller than you, so I could see it while hiding from your eyes. When the door opened, I knew you were in the doorway. That was an easy shot. You should have come through the walls instead."

"You knew where we were in the hallway," Rocky said.

"That was easy math," Zero said. "I saw you coming down the hallway, guessed your speed, and came through the wall at where I knew you'd be. I was a little off. I'd intended to be behind the second one, but I came through between you instead. It worked out, though."

"You jumped us right out of the door!" another complained.

"And?" Zero said.

No one knew what to say about that.

X shook his head. "Nothing that we did is outside what a Maverick could do if you found one in the field. You won't have the luxury of complaining about cheating, then. No one will be listening. The dead can't speak."

He sighed, and for a moment a sense of his age came over the rookies. "I've seen too many friends die. I want each of you to live. That's why I'm doing this. I need to teach each of you how to survive out there."

"You're saying we couldn't survive out there?" challenged Durand.

"I'm saying you'd be dead against front-line Mavericks," X said evenly.

The room was quiet for a moment. Then Kombat spoke up. "So maybe Zero beat us," he said, "but he beat us with the environment. He didn't beat us straight-up."

X cocked his head. "Are you ever going to be fighting in a place where the environment isn't a factor? If you have nothing but a _wall_, you have an environment you can use. A slope in the ground. A piece of machinery. And if you think the Mavericks don't know this, too, you're crazy."

"I still think we could beat him in open combat," Kombat said.

X covered his face in his palm; Zero smirked. "What do you think, X?" said Zero. "Should we let them try?"

X looked over his shoulder to Zero. "I thought your reputation meant more than this."

"They haven't been exposed to it long enough," Zero replied. "I bet yours is even weaker."

"Don't give them ideas," X said, but it was too late.

"Yeah, aren't people always saying that X is too soft?" said Rocky. "And that he doesn't even like fighting?"

"He hasn't been in the Hunters as long as Zero," said Kombat. "He's got less experience."

"And he wasn't built for combat like we were. I bet we can take him!" said Durand.

X looked daggers at Zero. Zero returned a grin. "This was your idea," Zero told him. "You've got no one to blame but yourself."

"Fine," X said with a huff. "You want a shot at me? We'll make that happen. Same scenario. Let's see if you've learned anything."

He walked out. Zero's smile got bigger. "You guys are morons," he said when the door was shut. "If you're wise, you fear one thing: the wrath of a gentle man."

* * *

The simulator antechamber was as packed as before. Zero restrained a yawn. "So, I'm not going to bother going over the scenario," he said. "You know it already. You'll probably ignore this, but if you don't give X the same respect you'd give me, you've already lost."

He could see the rookies chewing on this statement. He could see them comparing him against X in their heads. "What, that guy?" said Rocky, as if there was some confusion. "You're saying he's on your level?"

"I'm a better design, but he beat me head-to-head," Zero said. "I lead our sparring series, but not by much, and he won when it counted. He thinks completely differently than I do. In fact, I'm feeling generous, so here's a tip. He actually cares about people's lives, so he won't just kill the hostage outright like I did. That's a small handicap for him. But frankly," he shook his head, "I don't think it'll make much difference. You guys are toast."

"Hey, hey!" said Durand. "We're better than that."

Zero fixed him with an intense gaze, looked the reploid up and down. Durand shivered under that scrutiny. "No," Zero said definitely. "You're not."

He opened the door to the simulator and waved them good-bye.

* * *

After the last ambush, the four rookies were very cautious in coming out of the gate. They led with their busters and covered all the different angles as they came through the door. They spent several seconds standing and searching, ensuring they weren't about to be bushwhacked. Eventually Durand lowered his buster. "Well, that's a relief," he said. "Woulda been embarrassing to lose after ten seconds."

"We can hear you, you know!" called one of the other rookies from inside the anteroom. Durand shrugged sheepishly.

"What now?" Kombat said. "Zero said X won't kill his hostage, so he's not gonna pull the same sort of nonsense that Zero did."

"We need to narrow down where he could be," Altern said. "If you think about it, that cubicle space is a huge unknown. It's hard to clear the whole thing. But the rooms down the left hall? We can check those one at a time. They're all one-in, one-out. And unless he punches through the wall, too, he can't go from the cubicles to the hall. But we'd hear that, if he did. So we can close down on him if we clear the hall first."

"Good plan," said Rocky. "You wanna come with me and handle that?"

"Durand and I will keep an eye out for him here," Kombat said.

"Don't volunteer me like that!" Durand said. He turned to Rocky. "Kombat and I will stay here while you clear the hall." Kombat rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Altern," said Rocky. Altern's face was creased with a frown, but he acquiesced. The two Hunters took the left hall. At the first door they came to, they stopped. "We'll take turns," he said. "For this one, I'll open the door, you cover. Next one you'll open."

"Sure," Altern said, taking position along the door. They'd been taught how to do this, at least. With one Hunter at each side of the doorframe, busters leading, Rocky palmed the door knob and kicked the door open. They swept their gazes across the room quickly, but saw nothing. There was a single desk in that room, along with sundry furniture and cabinets. Rocky gestured to it; Altern nodded in understanding. The desk was plenty big enough to hide behind, especially for the diminutive X.

The two Hunters advanced cautiously, each taking one side of the desk. Their approach took them wide. It was a very cautious advance that exposed them only gradually. More and more of the desk came into view—and they rendezvoused behind it. No one was hiding. The room was empty.

Rocky lowered his buster with relief. "One room down," he said. Altern nodded. The two Hunters retreated out of the room. The next one was further down the hall, past the corner that would take them away from their allies.

"Don't forget to write!" hollered Durand. Altern rolled his eyes.

The pattern soon repeated itself. Although each room was different in layout and contents, they all had one similarity: they were devoid of X.

"Last one," said Altern. Rocky nodded in agreement. He spun the door knob, kicked the door open, and the two Hunters leaned in with busters.

"Don't shoot!" was the sound that assaulted them. It froze them long enough to blink. It was a minor amazement that nothing bad happened in that blink. Both Hunters had their busters trained on the source of the sound, and when there was space enough to think, they took in the sight.

X was standing behind his hostage, whom he had in a loose grip about the waist. X's short stature made it easy for him to hide. His face, half-concealed behind the hostage, was almost as frightened as the blubbering uselessness that was the simulated human.

"Don't move," said Altern, sliding his finger off of his buster's trigger.

"I won't," said X. "Don't be rash. I don't want to hurt my hostage, I didn't realize what I was getting into, just… we can talk about this, right?"

Altern and Rocky shared a glance. This seemed, sort-of, like the rumors they'd heard, though it was a bit more… extreme than they'd expected.

"I don't really want to fight like this," X said. "I'm worried my hostage will get hurt in the crossfire. Will you escort him out of here? I promise that I'll stay here while you do."

Another glance. Was this what Zero had meant? That X's care for other people would handicap him?

Well, it was their directive to protect the innocent, so… Altern lowered his buster to his hip. "Alright," he said. "Release the hostage to me, and we'll make sure he gets out safely."

"Sure thing." X moved the hostage forward somewhat without releasing his grip. "Watch your buster," he said to Altern. "This guy's scared out of his mind, you might have to manhandle him." Altern nodded, lowered his weapon, and spread his arms.

That's when X gave the hostage a shove.

Directly at Rocky.

The feraloid's arms jerked wide to try and catch the hostage, carrying his buster away from his body. While the weapon was out of line, a low-grade X-buster shot hit it and turned it red.

Altern's eyes went wide and he tried to bring his buster around. Before he could, X stepped in and snap-kicked it cleanly out of his hands. A shuffling step backwards took X back out of melee range. He lifted his arm. The emitter to his buster was clearly visible.

The Hunters had mental whiplash. They didn't feel like much had happened, but there was no doubt that they were completely beaten.

X's lips formed into a tight smile. "Now I have three hostages," he said.

* * *

"They've been gone a long time," Kombat said.

"Yeah," Durand said. "I told you that was a buster shot we heard, and you didn't believe me. Come on. If they're still in the hallway, we should see them."

"What if he's still in the cubicle swamp?" Kombat asked.

"If he hasn't moved by now, he ain't gonna," Durand said. "Let's go."

The two rookies went around the corner to find their fellows. Every door was closed. The one at the end of the hall looked… different. As they closed in, they heard a banging sound coming from it.

"Who's there?" said Durand, buster ready.

"It's Altern," came from the voice inside. "He caught us. Got us good. But then he left."

"What?" said Kombat. "You mean he trusted you to just stay put?" They'd heard of X's gullible, too-trusting nature, but this was a bit much.

"No, he sealed us in."

"How?"

"Some sort of crystal," said Durand, looking at the space between doorjam and door. "It's all locked in place."

"We've got the hostage in here, too," Rocky said. "Bust us out and we'll get him away."

"Perfect," said Durand. He leveled his buster. "That crystal doesn't look that thick. A few shots should bust it up. Kombat, take the top."

"Sure." Each fired a shot, then another, blasting away chunks of crystal and wood alike. "Now let's try," he said.

The door opened easily. Altern came into sight—and then his eyes widened.

"Don't move."

The voice came from earlier in the hallway, where X was leaning out the door of the bathroom. His buster arm was aimed at the backs of the would-be rescuers. "Drop your busters," he said. The rookies reluctantly complied.

"You weren't careful," he said. "I heard your busters firing." His smile this time was broad. "Now I have five hostages."

* * *

Zero shook his head. "You didn't kill a single one of them. You managed to take all eight without hurting them."

"I didn't want to hurt them more than I needed to, even in the simulator," X replied.

"Although it did take you almost three times as long to win your match as it took me to win mine." Zero looked suddenly thoughtful. "You know, nine hostages are a lot harder to deal with than one."

"Not when they're disarmed and feeling defeated. Their minds were off."

Zero huffed. "Now you're just showing off."

"You think so?" X looked stricken at the thought.

"You know how much harder it is to beat someone without killing them, right? We always make that point, it's one of the reasons the Hunters are authorized to terminate Mavericks. Taking them all like that? You'll need a microscope to find what's left of their egos."

X squirmed. "That was sort of the point, but when you say it like that, it's not nearly as funny."

Zero grinned. "How about we talk to them again? It might make you feel better."

"Well, we need to, anyway," X said. "First, though, we need to decide where we go from here. What should we do now? The different squads all have their own training regimens, but I don't want to give these rookies back as broken product."

"We still have simulator time, right?" said Zero. "Just have them fight each other. That way one of them has to win. Or you can send them in against one of the lower-level exercises. A C, maybe, or a strong D."

X didn't answer immediately. His mouth was curling into a smile.

"Not again," Zero moaned. "What are you thinking _now_?"

"Nothing bad," X said. "We wouldn't want you to get bored, after all. In fact, I promise this will be much more exciting!"

"Don't make me hate exciting," Zero warned.

* * *

_Next week: Round Three_


	2. Chapter 2

All eyes were on X and Zero as they reentered the briefing room. The two senior Hunters walked until they were at the head of the room, where they faced each other.

"So," X said, "they're still split into fours. How about I take the four on this side," he pointed at the cluster of Altern, Rocky, Kombat, and Durand, "and you take the rest?"

"Sure," Zero said. Something had caused him to relax since the rookies had last seen him.

X looked into the crowd. "This last exercise is a five-on-five," he announced. "Zero and I will each take four of you. One side will be Mavericks, the other side will be Hunters." He shot Zero a smile. "Ready?"

Each android held out a fist. They shook them, almost too fast to be seen. When their hands stilled, X's fist was in a tight ball, while Zero was extending two fingers.

"You always lead with scissors," X said with a smirk.

"Two out of three," Zero replied with a scowl.

"Suits me," X said. Their hands blurred again, and they didn't become clearly visible to the junior Hunters until Zero was turning away in frustration.

"Fine," Zero said. "Your pick."

"We'll be Hunters," X said, "and you're not allowed to just kill off your hostage."

In the blink of an eye, all emotion vanished from Zero's face. "Understood," he said.

"Each side has two hours to prepare for the last run," X explained to the rookies. "Whatever the senior instructor thinks is a useful thing to teach in that time. We'll reconvene at the simulator. The scenario is the same, just with more participants. Questions?"

When no one moved, other than to shoot each other incredulous looks, he nodded. "Best of luck to all!" He turned to face Zero and extended a hand. "Same to you," he added.

The slightest of smiles tickled the edge of Zero's mouth as he shook X's hand. "Why lead them on like this?" he said quietly. "We're so much stronger than they are that we're the only ones that matter. The outcome of our fight will be decisive."

"Oh, you never know with these things," X said gamely. "See you in the sim."

* * *

The door to the shooting range slid open. Zero strode through. His recruits followed.

"Grab the training weapons and get in line," he said. "I'm going to give you some coaching on shooting, moving, and use of cover. I don't have time to fully rebuild your mechanics if they're broken, but I'll fix you as best I can with tweaks." They watched him as he spoke. He frowned. "Move!" he said. "I'll talk over the noise. We don't have much time, so we'll need to be efficient."

The rookies scrambled to follow his instructions. Soon each one was in a firing lane. Zero started on the right. "Take a shot," he instructed. The rookie complied, and Zero was upon him in a moment, moving fingers and shoulders and neck and legs. "This isn't a hair trigger. The firing point is about halfway through. If you squeeze all the way in one motion, you'll jerk the weapon back, and it'll ruin your aim. Before you shoot, pull back on the trigger until you're close to the firing point. Keep the trigger there while you're actually shooting. Ride the edge. You'll improve your accuracy and rate of fire both. There it is… again."

He spent five minutes getting the first recruit's shooting exactly how he wanted it. "There, that'll do for now. Shoot fifty shots, then wait for me. When I come back around, we'll reset you and see if you remembered."

He looked at the next recruit in line. "Next."

* * *

"I didn't get to see much of you in action before," X said, sounding almost sheepish. "I've seen your basic marksmanship scores and physical traits, but I don't know what other abilities you have. I need to know those so we can figure out how we're going to work together."

"Will you tell us about all of your abilities, too?" asked Durand.

X contrived to look even more embarrassed. "Er… I would, but… I don't think we have time."

The rookies stared at him.

"Soooo," he said, trying to divert, "Kombat, other than wield a buster, is there anything else special you can do?"

The lizard-like reploid raised his head, exposing his neck, and ran claw-like fingers along the sides of his chin and throat. "Acid spit," he said. "I don't carry a whole lot, but it's some nasty stuff. Hard to use, though. The spray moves slower than a buster shot. And I'm… er… not exactly accurate with it."

The other reploids tittered. Kombat's face condensed in reptilian indignation. "Hey, hey!" he said. "You try aiming with your mouth sometime."

X frowned. "I thought komodo dragons weren't actually poisonous," he said.

Kombat rolled his eyes. "Tell that to my designers."

"Well, we'll have to make sure the simulator's programmed to represent the acid faithfully," X said, "but if it is, it'll be dead useful. Sure, it's not accurate, but we can make that a plus, not a minus. You can spray whole areas to degrade your enemy's cover. You use the acid to drive him into the open, then finish with your buster."

That seemed to take Kombat back, but X thought nothing of it; he was already looking at Rocky. "What about you, Rocky?"

"For me," Rocky said, "Rocky isn't the name I was designed with. It's the name I adopted. My original name was… Rocket Ra-a-a-am."

"Really?" teased Durand. "How many 'a's are in "ra-a-a-am"?"

"Dura-a-and, you are going to be in the bottom of a crater before we're done," Rocky bleated.

"I hadn't seen you use that ability before," X admitted.

"It's not an easy thing to do," Rocky said. "I have to drop to all fours. The idea was to get my whole weight going behind my horns to let me bust through things—doors, walls, ba-a-a-ad guys. But it's not… elegant."

Altern had a confused expression on his face. "Your whole mass?" he said. "And you start the maneuver on all fours? Then…" He blanched. "The rocket's actually up your…"

"Ba-a-a-ack!" Rocky said, cutting him off. He turned around and pointed to the box-like extension oriented along his robotic spine. A panel on the bottom slid open, revealing a nozzle. "It's on my ba-a-a-ack. I know what you're thinking, and don't. And YOU," he said, looking at a Durand who seemed seconds away from a snide remark, "are going to the bottom of a crater!"

"So you'll need a little time to prepare," X said, nonplussed. "Not something that can easily be done under fire, necessarily, but the enemy won't be able to stop it once it's started." His eyes swept to Durand. "Durand, what do you have?"

Durand turned on the spot to show off the ridge on his back. "Disorientation system," he said. "I think they intended it as a defense against getting caught from behind. When I light it off, it emits a multi-spectrum burst. It'll throw off just about any sensor suites, whether they're visual, IR, or near-UV."

Kombat shot Durand a nasty look. "X caught us from behind when we fought him," he snarled. "Where was all this then?"

Durand, for the first time, looked embarrassed. "Well, it takes a little time to warm up, and in all the excitement, I kinda forgot. Once X was actually behind us, he would have seen me prepping it, and shot us before I was ready."

"Rookie mistake," Kombat muttered.

"You'll be ready this time, though," X said reassuringly. "I can already think of how useful this will be to have on our side. You'll cover our flanks."

"Sure thing, boss," Durand said.

"And what about you, Altern?" X said.

The last reploid looked to be trying to make himself as small as possible. "I've got nothing," he said in a voice little more than a mumble.

"It's not his fault," said Durand. "He's…"

"Not designed as a combat model," X said, looking Altern over. Altern's face suggested that he wanted to disappear. "Though I wasn't either... not really. Hm. Bolt-on armor package, right?"

"Right," Altern said.

"How long does it take to disengage?"

The question seemed to take Altern by surprise. "Seconds," he said. "Minutes or more to put back on, though."

"What's your weight like without the armor?" X asked.

"Minimal," Altern replied. "The armor's half of my combat weight by itself."

"That's slightly lighter than me," X said. "That means that, if we're willing to accept the risk, you can get places no one else can." A thoughtful expression came over his face. "I assume you got some musculature upgrades when you came in to the Hunters?"

"Yeah," Altern said. "My old self was… underpowered."

X heard regret in that moment of hesitation, but he let it go. No need to bring up old hurts here. "Have you practiced using your new body without the armor?"

"No," said Altern, as if surprised the thought had never occurred to him.

"I think you'll be shocked at how easy the motions feel," X said. "You've got an hour to get used to it. All things being equal, we'll want you to do the extraction."

"Sure," Altern said, and for the first time, he looked as if he was at ease.

_Everyone needs a purpose_, X thought. _A use for everything, and everything will be used._ "Alright," he said, "we'll talk this through, and then we'll practice working together. We'll be ready before the time is up."

There was a rapid series of pops, followed by several clanks as Altern's armor fell to the floor. Beneath, the reploid had an almost skeletal aspect. Like-flesh covered his upper torso and arms, but from his non-existent nipples down was bare, unpainted metal. His designers had decided that those parts of him that a human might actually see needed to be masked; the rest could be left bare. Like-flesh was expensive.

"Let's get started," he said.

* * *

"Get your head down and slide along," Zero said. "Red, I can see you. Green, your head is bouncing as you run. Slide."

Zero demonstrated what he meant, shuffling his feet sideways while keeping his upper body motionless. "Try again. Freeze your ankles if you have to. Again… better."

A small compliment, but enough to bring some happiness to the faces of his squad members. Zero's reputation as a stern taskmaster, at least, seemed to have reached them intact. His approval was valued.

Zero didn't want to tell the Hunters the truth. The truth was that he wasn't counting on his Hunters. If they kept X's squad contained long enough for Zero to beat X and come back to clean up, that would be enough. Survivability and accurate shooting would be the keys.

It never entered his mind that he might not beat X. He wouldn't allow it.

* * *

"I'm counting on you," X said to his charges. They'd just finished a teamwork drill, and were waiting on his next instruction. He was having them do things they'd never tried before, combining effects like an experiment-minded chef, and it was exhilarating.

"Zero will come for me," X went on. "He'll seek to eliminate the biggest threat first. I can't say I'll beat him. He's a stronger robot, and in the simulator… well, let's just say we can't go as all-out as we might otherwise. The point is that the advantage swings in his direction. Even with support from you guys, I think a draw is the best I could hope to accomplish. But that'll be enough if you can grab the hostage."

"We won't let you down!" crowed Durand.

With a slight smile, Altern nodded his agreement. "No, we won't."

"That's the spirit," X said. "We're ten minutes to start. Let's run through the door breaching one last time, and then we'll head to the sim."

* * *

"Upend the desks," Zero ordered. "Use them to backstop the cubicles. Those things are fabric, they won't hold up against buster fire." He himself tore down any barrier that would slow down the lateral movement of his squad.

His eyes darted to the corner, where the hostage quivered at the intersection of wall and window. "If you move, I will blow your head off," he said to it. The hologram seemed perfectly willing to stay in place. It did a reasonable facsimile of human fear. That was enough for Zero—it meant it wouldn't be moving. He couldn't spare a body to watch it, and he didn't feel like trying to talk a rookie into tying it up. All reploids had the fear of the First Law beat into them during their post-startup socialization. Hunters were especially keen on the point, both because they were reploids authorized to carry heavy weapons and to better contrast with their enemies. Even pretending to be a Maverick was likely to make these rookies quake.

"The desks won't last for long, either," Zero added, turning back towards his charges, "so don't hesitate to fall back from line to line. Do as I taught you—alternate shooting and moving, work together, stay alive."

His internal chronometer blared at him. "It's started," he said. "Busters up. Any second now…"

* * *

The door had a small window. X's face appeared for the briefest of moments. He withdrew back out of sight to confer with his team. "Alright, just as we thought," he said. "They're in hard cover waiting for us. Looks like I'll have to use your trick after all, Durand. Kombat, the wall."

"Not yet," Kombat said. "I want to see this."

That took X slightly aback. Oh, he realized—it was more of a marvel to others than to him. He'd never _not_ had the Weapon Copy System. It was, literally, a part of him. To others, it was borderline magical.

"Sure," he said. Almost faster than the eye could follow, pieces of his right arm shifted, reconfigured, visibly rebuilt themselves. When it was done, the emitter to his buster had been replaced by three bands of glass. It was as if part of Durand's back had been transplanted onto X's fist.

"Cool," breathed Altern. X felt the agreement of his comrades.

"Enough gawking," he said, too honest in this case to be humble. "We have a job to do. Kombat, the acid if you please."

The landing the Hunters stood on was large; from it, the stairs continued to climb the simulated building. Kombat walked to the right of the door and spat. The volume didn't seem like much, but a dozen points on the wall immediately began to smoke.

"Rocky, get set," X said. Kombat moved away. Rocky took his place and lowered himself into something like a defensive lineman's stance—lower and wider than a sprinter would use, back parallel to the ground. "Durand?" The humanoid was moving, too. He walked to the edge of the smoking ring of acid and turned around until he was facing X.

"Perfect," X said. As his comrades watched, the crystal on the top of his helmet began to radiate. An audible whine came from his body, concentrated in his left arm. "Time for a new trick."

* * *

Several things happened in rapid succession.

A large plasma bolt blew open the door to the stairwell. Inside of most reploids' reaction times, before the pieces of the door had finished arcing away, a blinding burst of light came from just inside the doorway.

Even before the shocked defenders could cover their eyes against a flash that had already faded, Rocky punched head-first through the acid-weakened wall. Durand leaned, back-first, around the opening, and emitted a second flash, forcing the faux-Mavericks back to cover.

In seconds, all five Hunters were inside without even getting shot at.

Zero wasn't much interested in ranged combat, anyway.

"X!" he shouted as he vaulted through the air—clean over his team's defenses, easily through the glass in front of the cubicle swamp, and between X and the rest of his unit.

"This way," X said, dash-backpedaling.

For the barest of moments, Zero considered not following, considered turning on X's comrades and killing them quickly… but no. That would have meant exposing his back to X, and the threat value of that maneuver approached one. So he chased, and as he chased, he knew he was playing directly into what X wanted.

But it was what he wanted, too, truly.

He tore around the corner—dodging pools of acid and plasma spin wheels as he did—until he and X were in the long hallway together. X smiled. "Pick a room, any room," he said.

Zero went directly after X. X extended an arm—to the side. It took on the appearance of a rocket nozzle for a split second, before its thrust pushed X into one of the rooms. Zero followed with impossible speed.

Explosions followed.

None of which really reached the other members of their teams. They were too busy fighting. The effective fire from Zero's team was too hot for the Hunters to match them. Instead, they took turns using their abilities to force the Mavericks to fall back. First Rocky would quickly move to a flanking position, and the Mavericks would shift to keep from getting cut off. Then Durand would make a run to help him, using his flash to cover him. Then, if they got close enough, Kombat would use acid spit either to ruin the cover the Mavericks hid behind or to hurt the Mavericks themselves. Altern pitched in supporting fire and keen-eyed observations of what the Mavericks were up to.

The cover of the cubicles was enough to keep either side from seeing effectively, but it was only modestly effective at slowing plasma. Everyone took minor, unlucky hits—Kombat, with his oversized frame, took the most, while the slight Altern took the fewest. Inexorably, though, the Hunters pushed the Mavericks aside. They drew, with every exchange and pass, slightly closer to the hostage.

"Almost there," Altern said. "One more good push, then I'll drop my armor and make my run."

"It's too clear there," shouted Durand over the cacophony of buster shots. He raised his buster over the edge and fired some random shots in the direction of the Mavericks, just to keep their heads down. "You won't make it. Too much easy ground to cross. Tell you what, I'll cover you and flash 'em."

"I'm much faster than you," Altern said. "If it's too far for me, it's suicide for you."

"And if you get through, who cares?" Durand smiled. "It's an adventure. I'm not the strongest. I get it. If I can't be a hero by being strongest, I'll be a hero by being the bravest."

"That's not bravery, that's stupidity!" said Altern. His words were cut off as plasma bolts punched through the desk he was hiding behind; he rolled to the side, now sporting simulated damage down his arms. "There's an opening here," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "Give 'em a quick flash, we need to think!"

Durand was taken aback at the authority in his fellow rookie's voice, but he responded with gusto. "Sure thing, boss!" He and Altern passed in opposite directions, and moments later, there was another flash at the Mavericks. The tide of fire abated as all involved took cover.

The cessation of sound made it easier to speak. "We're playing their game like this," Altern said to Rocky. "Let's try something new. Punch up."

"Up?" said Rocky, befuddled.

"Go up a floor!" Altern said. "Your head's your strongest point, you should punch straight through. Then blow a hole in the floor and give us fire support from above them."

Rocky bleated a laugh. "On the way!" For the first time, he didn't have to get down into that humiliating position to blast off! That alone was worth the risk of getting shot on the way up. He stayed crouching while he initialized his thruster. Right before it went off, he stood ramrod-straight, and before the Mavericks could hit him, he was gone. Dust and debris fell down on the Hunters beneath.

"We're outnumbered now," Kombat pointed out.

"Give me all your acid right now," Altern said. "Arc it. Let gravity do the work."

"Coming right up," Kombat said. Without coming out from behind his cover, he spit several heavy gobbets of acid into the air at the Mavericks. They dispersed somewhat as they flew, meaning that they covered more area on landing. The Mavericks, by this point, respected the acid, and lost several seconds retreating away from it.

"One more push," Altern said, rising above the cubicle wall to unload more plasma shots at the Mavericks.

* * *

Rocky gingerly stepped forward. He remembered where the Mavericks were when he lost sight of them; inertial navigation told him they were half a meter ahead and directly down.

Limbering his buster, he started shooting into the floor. One shot, two shots, three, four… eight in all, making a square pattern in the floor. He set his buster aside, leaned down supporting his weight on one hand, and used the other to punch into the middle of the pattern.

Almost a full square meter's worth of floor/ceiling fell to the next floor. The Mavericks noticed this; before they could react, Rocky grabbed his buster and started shooting. He scored a beautiful headshot, taking credit for the first full kill of the exercise, before a fusillade of firepower answered him.

He brought his head and arms back out of view of the Mavericks, then winced. He looked down his body. Small amounts of plasma were getting through the ceiling to him—not enough to penetrate his armor, yet, but enough that he couldn't stay here long.

The boards around him groaned. His eyes shot open. "Uh-oh," he said.

* * *

When shots started coming from the floor above, Altern saw his chance. "Here I go!" he said to Durand and Kombat. His comrades doubled their shooting as Altern slid past them. Another few steps and he'd be in the open. His armor fell from him as he moved—now or never.

* * *

With a grunt, X slammed backwards through the wall. He tried to draw a bead on Zero, but the red Hunter beat him to it. The shot took X cleanly off his feet and onto his back.

As he landed, he saw he was behind the Maverick's last defense line—and then Zero was on him, before he could even think about rising.

The beam saber was above X's face. "Gotcha this time," Zero said.

"You think so?" replied X with a pointed look towards their feet.

Zero obligingly looked back and saw two magnet mines, planted even as X had fallen, ticking towards detonation. Zero gave a tired look back at X. "Really?" he said.

X just grinned.

Explosions in the simulator weren't quite like explosions in real life. There was the toning down of the acceleration to non-lethal levels, for one thing. There wasn't the heat, either, or the deafening noise.

The simulator did a pretty good job at modeling the kinetic effects, though. Particularly the collateral effects.

The explosions that followed didn't just set both X's and Zero's armors to red. They blew a hole in the floor—a hole that spread instantly. The floor had withstood much abuse during the battle, from stray buster shots (especially Rocky's nearly-vertical ones) to the tromping and stomping of heavy reploid feet to Kombat's liberal acid use. It could take no more.

The entire cubicle swamp became a rapidly-expanding cubicle sinkhole. The floor vanished out from under the Mavericks, first; they fell in a clatter of arms and chairs and busters and office supplies. The crack pattern spread, spiderweb-like, until it hit the acid-scored regions, where the cracking spread across almost instantly. Durand fell immediately; Kombat saw it coming enough to try and hold on to a desk, but when that, too, tumbled into the hole, so did he.

There were several seconds of rumbling and clatter and crashes as the whole of the office space was consumed and dumped. Silence came—for a moment. Then, with a splintering of tortured wood, the floor beneath Rocky could no longer hold him. He fell, in a column of timber and dust, down two floors until he joined the two teams below him with a massive crash.

The only sound was the shifting and sifting of dust and debris. Then, footsteps. Step, step. A human face appeared over the edge of the hole. "H-h-hello?" said the erstwhile hostage.

A plasma bolt rang out and made its head disappear. The holographic human fizzled to nothingness.

"Zero," X chided, "you know that you're not supposed to shoot people when you're dead."

"I hate hostages," Zero said. "And I keep promises." He let his arm return to his side. "Dead again," he muttered. "It's not fun."

"You're the expert on the subject, so I'll take your word for it," X said. He lifted his head. "Everyone okay?" he shouted out. He didn't particularly feel like moving right now.

"I'm fine and da-a-a-andy," said Rocky in a slightly slurred voice.

X had been most worried about him, so knowing he was alright was comforting.

"And people accuse me of overkill," Zero muttered. "Look at this mess!"

"Maybe I don't know my own strength sometimes," X said with a smiling voice.

At that point, a human-sized visage appeared over the side of the hole. "So, um… does this count as a recovery?" Altern asked. He barely realized—out of the reploids, only he was light enough to not spread the sinkhole.

X turned his head to face Zero. "Hey, Zero?"

The red robot closed his eyes, knowing what was coming. "What?" he said irritably.

"I won."

"You're dead, too," the 0th Squad Leader snapped.

"But I won."

Snort. "Fine. Yes, you won."

X smiled.

* * *

Another recharge period, another day, another set of patrols, another return to the ready room.

X sat at the monitor, dutifully typing. Zero reclined against a wall, loose but not at rest. The new normal.

"What are you doing?" said Zero in a voice with just the bare minimum of curiosity.

"Short write-ups of the different rookies. It's so their squad leaders have an idea of how they performed for us, and how they grew."

"Oh."

"All of those Hunters had more strength than their stats would have told me," X said.

"I did notice you using all of their powers," Zero said. "You're so promiscuous about that."

"I have to be to keep up with you!" X said. "You learn frighteningly quickly. Nothing works against you twice, so I have to mix things up to have a chance."

Zero gave an acknowledging nod. He knew it wasn't flattery. It didn't make him any prouder than if someone had told him that he had red armor: both were statements of fact.

"And I'm recommending Altern be fast-tracked for a leadership position," X added.

"Makes sense," Zero said. He'd seen the recordings. He'd seen what X had seen. His threat assessment of Altern was significantly higher now.

Neither of them spoke again, and silence returned, save for the tap-tap-tap of fingers against keys. It was a comfortable quiet, the quiet of those who need not say anything.

When the little noise that was in the room ceased, Zero noticed. He looked up. X was leaning back in his chair. A disturbingly thoughtful expression was on his face.

"Uh-oh," said Zero. "I know that look. What are you up to _now_?"

The corners of X's mouth slowly slid up. "Want to not be bored?" he asked.

"No," Zero replied. "No more. I'd rather learn to appreciate boredom. It's not so bad. It's fine."

X didn't even dignify that with a response. He simply gave his counterpart an expectant look. Zero felt the impact of that look, and as he felt it change him, he was struck with the wildest of notions.

Zero was stronger than X—that was evident. They'd proved it several times. But X always won. Even when Zero beat him, X still won.

And somehow—and Zero didn't understand this at all, wasn't equipped to understand—when X won, _Zero also won_.

He didn't understand it, but it was enough.

Skepticism melted. "Okay, sure," Zero replied with a smile.

* * *

Fin


End file.
